


listen.

by CalebCrow



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, If You Squint - Freeform, Mostly a Simon centric fic, Other, more like a blurb, not even a fic, there is Simarkus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:02:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalebCrow/pseuds/CalebCrow
Summary: Do you hear it?(The success of a revolution through Simon's point of view.)
Relationships: Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	listen.

Do you hear it? 

Listen to the drip, drip drip, of water as it pours from the sky, the pitter-patter of rain weeping through the cracks of Jericho. Simon is scared. He sits in the corner of the rotting ship and watches the older, unfamiliar faces around him converse quietly; an image painted orange from the fire lit up in the barrels, a similar fire to the one that Simon is huddled up close against, it’s the brightest thing he’s seen in a while. The crackle of the fire underscores the rain.

The murmur of people as he navigates through the alleyways; unsure of where he’s going, but moving with a purpose. Avoiding crowds, but they’re audible nevertheless, keeping his head low to avoid attracting attention. It’s silent again when he pries open a manhole cover and plunges knee-deep into the sewers. 

The groaning, the pleading, the begging. The cries of the broken as he trudges over this mass graveyard, something akin to bile clogging up his throat. He takes what he can from the dead, and the living if they ask. He brings back a few, when he sees someone who’s capable of being saved. But it’s not really saving, it never really was.

(The sharp intake of breath when Simon finds a familiar face jutting out among the mud and soil. It hurts to leave them behind to die.) 

Do you hear it? 

Listen to the footsteps within the halls of Jericho- no longer a stranger to these weathering walls, the furthest from one. Simon sees the beam of a torch cut through the darkness and a figure trailing water back to where they stood; it’s the brightest thing he’s seen in a while.

The breathing, the pant for air, even if they didn’t need to breathe. Water pours from the sky, but this time it breaks like bullets against his skin, soaking into his hair and his clothes. His body chills but he pushes through the cold anyways, and they emerge at the end of it all with blood and components and hope.

Listen to the sound of Markus’s voice. The inexplicable, nameless feeling that swells, clogging up his throat, when he listens to the RK200 speak; when Josh broadcasts what he sees to the rest of Detroit. Do you hear it? Do you hear them? The hope of a people spoken through the mouth of the messenger. Do you hear it? The hail of deafening gunfire that follows, and he _falls--_

_I… I can’t. Go on without me!_

_Simon!_

_I- I can’t move my legs._

_If they get to him, they’ll find out everything about Jericho._

_We have to shoot him!_

_I won’t kill one of our own._

He hears them. He hears them.

Do you hear it? Even the silence is loud, because silence doesn’t really exist. The murmur of vehicles and establishments, the city alive even when the people are asleep. The drag of his feet as he exits Stratford tower and holes himself up in a public restroom, the shatter of a mirror when his emotions reach a boiling point, the _tink_ of his LED clattering to the bottom of the sink when he pries it out with the broken shards of his own doing.

The cries of the broken, but they’re no longer begging for help; they’re echoing every mantra that falls from Markus’s lips, demands for every shred of freedom denied to them, dignity, respect, they deserve better because they are free and they are alive. The footsteps within the streets, as more and more pull away from the pavement and the bondage of their programming to join their cause. Simon doesn’t know how Markus does it, but he’s awestruck anyways.

And then, the hail of deafening gunfire- the thud of Markus’s body when it hits the ground. The crowd runs and retreats back to Jericho, still a rotting ship, but with more life within it than it ever has before. It’s become the symbol of a movement, the symbol of hope.

Do you hear it? The explosion. It rattles his core, clenches his teeth, sends his heart into a panic. The barking orders of soldiers who refuse to let them live because they believe that they aren’t alive, not really. The creak as the walls finally crumble, and the silence when he suddenly plunges into ice-cold water to save his own life.

His biocomponents shrieks so loudly in complaint that he can almost hear them, Josh’s panicked whisper in his ear when he’s pulled against the taller man whose body temperature ticks up to keep Simon functioning. The artificial chatter of his teeth when he forces out directions from his voice box to the church. 

Do you hear it? When Markus brings them to storm Recall Center 5. The gunfire, the explosions. Do you hear it? When they sing so loudly that you’re _forced_ to listen, one hand in Josh’s and another in Markus’s, clutching on for dear life, when they cry in relief once they no longer stare down the barrel of guns, cry over the dead and cry over the living, the cries of the broken, finally freed.

Do you hear it?

Simon does. He hears it every time he looks at all they’ve accomplished, when he laughs at North’s limitless, witty phrases, when he hums in thought over a proposal Josh shows to him, when he sighs against Markus’s shoulder as they embrace. He hears it. He hears it.

All he has to do is listen.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why, but I wrote this! Enjoy!


End file.
